


Instigators

by ravesinthesky



Category: South Park
Genre: Coming Out, First Kiss, First Love, Friends to Lovers, High School AU, Introverted, Introverts, Kyman - Freeform, M/M, Midnight, Senior Prank, Senior year, Virginity, coming of age story, grace potter - Freeform, instigators, south park - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-03-24 11:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13809990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravesinthesky/pseuds/ravesinthesky
Summary: Kyle was about as introverted as they could come, and was perfectly content with living his little peaceful life. Until, his best friend drags him to a party, and he meets Eric Cartman, another introvert. He brings out feelings in Kyle that he had never felt before. Will they both continue their unremarkable lives, or will they make things a little more interesting? Let's find out! Inspired by the song Instigators by Grace Potter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Shoulder to shoulder, we blow on the coals  
> In the cold of our souls, we crash in the hole  
> You, me, together we're gonna be  
> The instigators  
> Revolution loves company, we are the  
> Revelators"
> 
> \- Grace Potter

The stars were out, and the air smelled wet. It had just been raining that afternoon, so everything was drenched in a thick layer of dew. Kyle's sandals made horrible squelching sounds in the damp earth. Oh god, why did he choose to where sandals?!

“For the love of god, dude. Why did you wear sandals? I can’t stand that noise.”

Kyle winced, hearing the disgust in his best friends voice. “I dunno! It’s nice out. I wanted to be comfortable.”

  
Stan rolled his eyes. “It’s a party, Kyle. The goal isn’t to be comfortable. It’s to look cool and get laid. I mean come on, dude. You’re almost eighteen, and you still haven’t lost it. There could be some really cute guys here tonight.”

“I don’t look cool…?” Kyle replied, and felt the soft fabric of his shirt. He thought he looked quite handsome. At least, that’s what his mom had said before they had left…

Stan groaned. “Ugh… hurgh. You’re ridiculous. Yes, you look fine.”

Kyle conveniently didn’t mention the whole… get laid part. He didn’t even want to go to this party in the first place, much less engage in intercouse with somebody he barely knew. Not to mention he had a sneaking doubt that there wouldn’t be too many other gay guys at this kind of party. Not that Kyle would know anything at all about gay guys anyway. Like his best friend had conveniently mentioned, he had never been intimate with anyone before. He sniffed the air.

“What’s that smell…?”

“It’s my new cologne,” Stan said, and wiggled his eyebrows. “Like it?”

Kyle’s nose wrinkled. “No, actually. Not really. You smell like dirt.”

His best friend’s face fell. “It’s supposed to be fresh pine smell.”

“More like you need a fresh shirt, dude, you stink.”

“Shut up, Kyle.”

Together the pair approached the house party. It was at some kid’s house from a few blocks over. He went to their High School, but was a couple of grades above them, and Stan was only invited because he played football with the guy. He was all pumped up for the party, talking about it all day and practically chatting Kyle’s ear off at any given moment. He wouldn’t stop saying how there would be girls from the elusive North Park, and that he had heard from a friend who had heard from a friend who had a cousin, or something, who was ‘totally into him.’ And of course, he wanted his best buddy Kyle right by his side as his own personal wing man.

Kyle, on the other hand, had been dreading this all day. He was an introvert at heart, and there was nothing wrong with that, in his opinion. Curling up with his favorite page worn book and a cup of tea sounded a thousand times more inviting than drinking cheap vodka in some greasy kid’s crowded basement with a hundred horny teenagers. But he couldn’t leave Stan to his own demise. The guy was good at hiding it, but he was utterly heartbroken from being dumped last week by his long term girlfriend Wendy, and Kyle didn’t have the heart to watch his best friend drink himself half to death on a random Friday night. So here they were. Waltzing up the porch of some rando’s house.

From the outside, the house seemed unassuming. The blinds were drawn shut, but Kyle could see light seeping out from under them, and he could hear a muffled heavy bass line from coming from inside, but besides that, Kyle could barely tell that there was even a party at all.

“Um… are you sure this is the place?” he said hesitantly.

“Yeah, dude. I’m sure.”

“Well… are you like, sure sure? Or… sort of sure? What percentage would you say, exactly?”

“Dude, stop. Now you’re making me nervous,” Stan replied, scrolling through his texts to check the address. “Yeah, this is the plac-”

Before he could finish, the door opened and a round faced teen with shaggy brown hair and a South Park football jacket poked his head through. “Hello?”

“Clyde! Hey dude,” Stan said grinning.

The other guy smiled back. He was cute, Kyle noted. His round cheeks gave him dimples, and the wrinkles around his eyes scrunched up a bit. He was definitely hiding a little chub under that letterman jacket, but Kyle didn’t mind.

“Oh, hey Stan. Come on in,” he said. “Who’s your friend?”

Before Stan could reply, Kyle’s hand shot out. “Kyle Broflovski.” He may be introverted, but he knew when to be polite. His mom made sure to teach him manners, unlike some people he knew.

Clyde glanced at his outstretched hand, and grasped it tightly, giving Kyle a toothy grin. “Welcome, dude. Lemme show you guys around.”  
Inside the boy’s house was a lot more chaotic than the unassuming ulterior. There was tons of trash and empty bottles and cans of liquor everywhere; mostly Four Lokos and Hard Apple Ciders and stuff like that. There was an open kitchen with lots more bottles; there was rum and vodka along with various mixers and juices.

Stan's eyes grew huge. “Oh man, you are stocked, dude!”

“Haha, yeah. I have connections,” Clyde chuckled.

Besides the alcohol and trash, there was people everywhere as well. Mostly teenagers, they were strewn across the furniture, resting in circles on the floor, leaning against the walls, etc. Kyle had been to small parties before, with handfuls of all people whom he knew of course, but nothing like this. He barely recognized a single face amongst the throngs of teens. He could practically feel himself shrinking. He wrapped his hands loosely around his arms and stroked the spot above his elbows, hoping to bring some sort of comfort to himself.

“Who are all these people?” he hissed to Stan.

Stan shrugged. “I dunno. I told you there’d be people from North Park here.”

“Yeah, I know! But I don’t even see anybody from South Park. Are you sure we’re even allowed here?!” Kyle replied through tight lips.

“Of course we’re allowed, dude. Come on, calm down. Look! Butter’s is right over there. You know him.”

It was true. Leopold ‘Butters’ Stotch was leaning against the doorway leading into the dining room, a beer in one hand and the other running through his cropped blond hair. Kyle felt his beating heart relax a little bit at the sight if a familiar face. Butters stood next to two other boys, one of whom was wearing a bright orange parka, which Kyle noted was very odd party attire, and the other was a taller guy with his arms crossed in a matching fashion as Kyle's. He had a scowl on his face, and seemed very disinterested in whatever the other two were talking about. That’s when Butter’s happened to do a once over of the room, his eyes momentarily locking with Kyle’s. His face lit up. Oh no.

“Oh no,” Kyle accidentally said out loud.

“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted to find someone you knew.”

“Yeah, but now they’re going to wanna taaaaaalk to me ‘n stuff,” Kyle whined, hugging his arms tighter around himself.

“Stop, man. Come on out of that shell of yours, turtle boy, and go make some friends,” Stan grinned and playfully pushed the red head towards the trio.

“Stan, noooo, stop. I don’t waaaaanna,” Kyle continued to whine as his best friend inched him closer to Butters, who was frantically gesturing for him.

“Hiya, buddy!” the blond said grinning, and gathered Kyle into a hug. He stayed stiff in Butters’ embrace, his heart beating ninety miles a minute.

“Hi,” Kyle said softly.

The Boy in the Parka laughed. “Hey there. I’m Kenny! And this is my buddy Cartman.”

The other boy grunted. He was clearly avoiding eye contacting, rather staring intensely into his drink.

“Okay boys, it’s been great meeting ya, but I see a hot chick I matched with on Tinder over there by the bathroom, so Stan the Man’s gotta get going.” Oh god.

Kyle was going to kill him. Absolutely murder him. Stan turned and ran away from the small group. Probably because he knew he was a dead man if he ever came back. How could he leave Kyle all alone with these… these people!? Oh god, please come back.

“Soooo, um, what did you say your name was again,” the boy named Kenny said.

“I didn’t.”

There was an awkward moment of silence until Butters piped up, “His name is Kyle! He goes to my high school. We’re in the same math class. He’s real smart, and always helps me when I need help with my equations.”

Kenny grinned. “Oh that's, cool. So, you like math or something?”

“Yeah, sure. I guess,” Kyle said, and winced. God, could he be any more awkward.

“Hmmm… okay, well. We go to North Park,” Kenny placed a hand on his chest, and then patted the shoulder of the other boy. “We don’t have any classes together, because I’m dumb as shit, but we have been neighbors since we were kids.”

The other guy, Kyle vaguely recalls his name was Cartman, just shrugged, continuing to gaze into his drink. Up close now, Kyle could see it was just a red solo cup full of tap water. Either that, or plain vodka. Who knows.

They stood there in silence for a few more moments, until Kyle couldn’t take it anymore. His nerves got the best of him, and rapidly sputtered out, “Uh, I have to go.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Do you need-” Butters tried to say something, but Kyle had already turned tail and ran towards where he had seen Stan go.

“What the hell was that?” Kenny laughed as he watched the skinny redhead practically run away. “Am I really that ugly?”

Butters sighed. “No… he’s just kind of like that actually. Trust me, it’s not you personally.”

“Are you sure it’s not me? I promise I don’t bite. Well, not unless you’re into that kind of thing.” The blond boy winked, and Butters laughed.

“God, just get a room already,” Cartman said, finally speaking.

“Shut up, ass. Go make some new friends,” Kenny replied.

“I don’t wanna. Parties are dumb. People are dumb. This is dumb.”

“You’re dumb.”

“Yeah well, you’re poor.”

“You’re poor too, Cartman!”

“Oh yeah. Ew.”

Butters watched the exchange in awe. “Are you guys always like this?”

The boys looked at each other, and both nodded. “Yeah.”

 

Inside the bathroom, Kyle was hunched over in the corner trying not to puke. He hugged his arms tightly around his stomach trying to think happy thoughts. Maybe he could text Stan, and they could leave together. Then Kyle could go home, get in his sweatpants, and watch a movie, or something. Maybe get started on his homework for Monday. Maybe…

Oh god. What was he even talking about?! How pathetic could one guy be. This is want he wanted. He wanted to meet new people and make friends. He wanted to stop feeling so lonely and unwanted. He wanted to be somebody.

But why, oh why did that actually require talking to people. Fuck.

 

“Wait, where’d Kyle go?” Stan said. He had had enough flirting with the Tinder girl, and had gotten distracted by a few guys playing beer pong. That is until of the more drunker of the guys spilled an entire cup of beer all over Stan’s new khaki pants.

“I dunno. He said something about having to go, and then he just ran away,” Kenny said, before Butters could get a word out.

“Damn it. I really hope he didn’t leave. I’ve been trying to get him out of the house all week. I swear all that boy does is study.”

Butters shrugged. “Sorry, Stan. Maybe he just needed some space.”

Cartman grunted again, and the other three looked at him. “Well, gentlemen. Not that this hasn’t been an invigorating conversation, but I need to take a piss.” And with that, he turned and left for the bathroom.

Cartman knocked on the wooden door with his knuckles. “Hello?”

Inside, Kyle froze. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, and he felt that all too familiar feeling of sickness spread through his chest.

“Um, hello? I assume someone’s in there because the door is locked.”

Kyle chewed on his lower lip, and stayed silent. He prayed that maybe whoever it was outside would just get frustrated and find another bathroom.

“Hey, asshole! I’m not just gonna go find another bathroom if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re not the king of bathrooms, buddy. I don’t even wanna be at this stupid party. I just want to pee and go home,” the guy on the other side said, sounding frustrated.

Kyle sighed. Still curled up on the floor, he reached out and unlocked the door. Immediately, the boy from before, the taller one introduced as Cartman, swung the door open and stepped inside. Just as soon as the door was opened, Kyle shut it quickly, and covered his face with his hands. This night sucked.

“Dude? What’s uh, going on down there?”

“I don’t feel good,” Kyle said quietly.

“Okay, well. That bathroom is probably absolutely filthy. Also, I do actually have to pee, soooo…. If you wanna just, ya know… step out for a sec…”

Kyle felt his throat close up, and tears sprout in his eyes. Why was this guy being such a jerk? “Well, I’m kind of busy, so if you could just find another bathroom, that would be lovely.”

“Oh hell no, skinny. Like I said, you don’t own this room. I’m going to pee in here, so god help me.”

“Fine,” Kyle said curtly, and stood up. He made sure to slam the door shut on his way out.

Outside of the bathroom, he felt exposed. There were still teenagers everywhere, and he couldn’t see Stan anymore. He didn’t see anybody he knew at all actually. Kyle felt his heart skip a beat, and his face grow hot. Oh god, this was a horrible idea. He walked forward in a daze, swimming through the crowds of people while dance songs pumped through the thick air. He ended up pushing his way into the kitchen, hoping to find Stan.

Suddenly, the boy Clyde appeared. His face was flushed, and he was accompanied by two girls. One was a curly blond whose face was equally red, and the other was… oh no. Oooohhh no. On Clyde’s other side was none other than his best friend’s ex, Wendy.

“Oh hey, Kohl, buddy!” Clyde slurred, spilling his drink a little bit on the arm of the blond.

“Oh, ew gross, dude. You’re getting your beer all over me,” the girl said in disgust.

“Sorry, Bebe… I’m drunk.”

“Yeah, no shit, dumbass.”

“My name isn’t Kohl. It’s Kyle.”

Clyde’s eyebrows furrowed together as he said, “Huh? Are you sure?”

“Yes, Clyde. I think he knows his own name.” Wendy’s eyes were smiling at him, her lipstick mouth turned up in a grin that made her dimples stand out. “Hey, Kyle. How’s it going? I’m surprised to see you here.”

“O-oh, uh. Yeah,” Kyle fumbled through his words. Get it together man! Focus!

“Dude? Where’s your drink? Why aren’t you drinking?” Clyde continued to babble, and then proceeded to grab the nearest bottle of vodka on the kitchen counter. “Here, I’ll pour you a shot.”

“Oh no, no thanks. There’s no need for that,” Kyle tried to say, but then a tiny shot glass of liquor was shoved into his hand. He stared at the offensive liquid, and then sniffed it. “Um…”

“Go ahead, buddy! It won’t kill you,” Clyde said, laughing. “Live a little.”

Well… this is why he came wasn’t it? He wanted to make new friends and try new experiences, right? He was sick and tired of always playing it safe; listening to his mother an never to himself. Why wasn’t he allowed to rebel a little bit? He was only going to be a teenager for a couple more years. What harm could one drink do.

“Uh okay,” Kyle said softly, and downed the shot. It stung on the way down, and tasted like how cleaning products smelled. Afterwards, his throat burned like fire. He coughed and sputtered, rubbing at his mouth. Clyde let out a loud cackling laughter, while Bebe chuckled.

“You okay?” Wendy said, sounding concerned.

Kyle hacked a bit more, his eyes watering. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

Clyde kept laughing, swallowing gulps of air, until it ended in a loud belch.

“Oh gross!” Bebe screamed, and pushed him.

He bounced excitedly, ignoring Bebe. “Nice one, dude!” Clyde said directed towards Kyle, and turned to pull out three more little shot glasses stacked up into each other. “Let’s do one together now!”

Kyle felt warmth pool in his belly. His head felt like it was starting to fill with hot air, like a balloon. Oh no. Oooooh no.

One more shot together turned into three more shots each, which turned into Clyde making Kyle one of his “famous”, air quotes intended, mixed drinks, which was just shitty peach rum and tropical fruit juice. Kyle chugged his excitedly, and held the empty plastic cup out for more.

Wendy put her hand on his. “Maybe you should slow down, Kyle. You’ve never even drank before, right? Have you drank any water yet?”

He ignored her, too focused on Clyde who was pouring him a second mixed drink. After taking a big sip, he focused his eyesight back on her. “I’m fine. I’m gonna go find Stan,” and started towards the dining room again. He saw Wendy look confused, and then alarmed.

Kyle had just enough time to hear he say, “Wait, Stan came?” and then was lost in the crowd of people. His head felt light and fuzzy and heavy all at the same time. It was hard to tell where he was, and after a few minutes, he began to feel fear creep into him. Where was Stan? How was he supposed to walk home like this? He stumbled a bit on a piece of rug that was turned up, and fell into a couch.

The wooden corner struck his hip, and even with the body numbing effects of the alcohol, it still hurt like hell. Kyle held back his tears, and looked around wildly. All the faces started to blur together; just a sea of young faces, all of which he did not recognize. Just as he was stepping into a full fledged panic attack, Kyle saw him. The guy from before, who had kicked him out of his bathroom hiding place.

Cartman.

He was leaning against the wall next to a table decked out with various snacks and other foods, looking nervous. Kyle could tell, even in his tipsy state, that the guy was trying to remain calm, but he definitely looked freaked out. Kyle knew that look in his eye all too well. Kyle felt an intense wave of relief rush over him at the sight of a familiar face. Oh thank god. Maybe he knew where Stan was.

Kyle stumbled forward, and pushed his way towards Cartman. Once he was close enough to lock eyes with the other boy, confusion crossed his face.

“Hey,” Kyle said, feeling his heart beating rapidly. “Cartman, right?”

The guy nodded. “At your service. Bathroom Boy, right?”

“Bathroom… Boy?” Kyle muttered, and then suddenly remember. “Oh. Oh! Yeah, that was me. Wait, why were you being such a jerk to me back there?”

He laughed, which sent some unexpectant butterflies fluttering in Kyle’s stomach. He had a nice laugh; it was warm. “Oh, yeah. I’m not sorry for that. I had to pee.”

“I was having a panic attack, you ass!”

“Well, the bathroom was a pretty poor choice for location. That’s where pee goes.”

Kyle growled, but it was mostly playful. He was way too drunk to actually be mad, and was mostly just relieved that he had found another introvert.

“Have you seen the guy I came with?”

“Um, yeah,” the other boy said. “I’m pretty sure he left. Kenny said his ex came by, and the guy got one look at her and ran.”

“Oh my god! That fucking asshole,” Kyle said, and crunched up his empty plastic cup in his closed fist. “I can’t believe he would just leave me here. He knows how much I hate people.”

Cartman grinned. “Right? People suck and parties are even worse. I’ve been here for hours, and all I’ve wanted to do is leave. I hate this.”

“Same! I feel so awkward,” Kyle continued, running his hands through his curly red hair. “I hate crowds so much. Stan said I should make new friends, and I want to! I really do! But I just can’t, not like this. I just want to go home.”

“Well… you wanna get out of here?”

“W-what?” Kyle was taken aback. What did that even mean? “And go where?”

“You said you wanted to go home. I assume you walked here with your friend. I could walk you back?” Cartman said, avoiding eye contact with him. Kyle could see in the dimly lit room that a subtle redness had started to spread across the other boys cheeks.

“Oh! Oh, um. Sure! We can definitely do that. I only live a few blocks away.”

“Cool. Let’s go.”

Suddenly, Kyle knew what all those people in those movies felt like. Together, Cartman and him weaved through the crowd, Cartman leading the way while Kyle followed behind, giggling. He felt like they were in on some sort of secret. Mission: Escape the Party. He had even forgotten that Stan had left him there. Finally, they made their way to the door, and slipped out before anyone could see them.

The last thing Kyle heard was Clyde talking very loudly, and then they were outside. The cool night air was like a vacuum, sucking Kyle into it’s quiet depths and leaving the chaos of the party behind.

He still felt a little drunk, so he stumbled a bit crossing Clyde’s front lawn.

“Woah, dude, careful, you’re gonna knock me over,” Cartman said, sounding annoyed. He stopped and leaned over to sniff Kyle’s mouth. “Are you drunk?”

“Uh… a little.”

“Oh god, okay. I didn’t plan on playing babysitter tonight, but whatever. Which way is your house,” he replied, pinching the area between his eyes and rubbing.

“What? Oh, it’s this way!” Kyle pointed the direction they had come from earlier.

Cartman nodded, and they started walking. Kyle felt like he was asleep.

“Am I dreaming?”

“So, why were you there anyway?”

The two boys had talked at the same time, causing them both to quickly shut up, and look at each other. Kyle started to panic a little bit; he always hated awkward silences.

“Um, nevermind,” he said quickly. “You first.”

“Uh… okay? I asked why you were there. At the party, I mean,” Cartman said, looking at him expectantly.

“I don’t know. My stupid friend Stan wanted me to go and be his wing man.”

“Ew gross.”

“Right?! That’s what I thought. But then, I have barely left my house this week, except for school and stuff, so I thought it might be good for me,” Kyle said, shuffling his feet as he walked. Admitting that he was essentially a shut in to this complete stranger felt like it should be embarrassing, but strangely, Cartman didn’t react.

“Hmm, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you leave the house?” he pushed.

“I don’t know, uh well, I do know actually. I just don’t want to. I like my own company,” Kyle said honestly. “I just don’t like dealing with people.”

Cartman grinned. “So you like doing what you wanna do when you want to?”

“Yeah,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Also, it’s kind of hard for me to make friends. And my mom gets on my case about schoolwork a lot. She wants me to go to a great college. And she has this whole plan for me to go on this retreat over the summer for ‘specially gifted’ children. I know I’m supposed to want this, but to be honest, I’m dreading it.”

“Then just don’t go,” Cartman said frankly.

“It’s not that easy! She controls my whole life. I can’t even take a shit without her knocking on the door asking if I know what I’m doing.”

That made Cartman snort, and laugh out loud. Butterflies fluttered awake briefly in Kyle’s stomach, and then fell back asleep. The cool night air felt hot around his face as they walked side by side down the street. The lamps overhead cast their shadows over them in twisting shapes. Kyle was glad he had made Cartman laugh. He was really glad.

Cartman kicked a rock, and it went tumbling down the street. “I can’t relate. I have a pretty good relationship with my mom, and she’s pretty forgiving with stuff. I mean, she has enough of her own issues to work out, much less worry about mine, too. But it’s fine; I like to keep to myself, too.”

“That’s… kind of sad,” Kyle said frowning.

“Naw. I love her, and she does whatever I want, so it’s cool,” Cartman chuckled. “I used to be horrible to her, and everyone else as well, when I was a kid. I’m surprised she didn’t slap me, not even once. I’ve mellowed out a lot, but still.”

“Is it hard for you to make friends, too?” Kyle felt like he might be crossing a line there, but alcohol coursed through his veins, and he had little inhibition.

Cartman scoffed. “Of course not. I’m freaking awesome. People are lining up to be my friend, but I push ‘em away, because like you said, dealing with people sucks.”  
Kyle couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic, or maybe this rather ordinary, actually kind of chubby boy was actually the most popular guy at North Park. Who knows?

“So, uh. This is my house,” Kyle said, motioning upwards, feeling sad that the walk had finally come to an end.

The other boy’s eyes lit up. “Shit, man. This is huge!”

Oh no. Cartman was from North Park; he probably wasn’t used to these kinds of houses. Now Kyle just felt like he was bragging. “Oh, uh no. It’s not that great, I swear.”

“No, seriously! That’s a nice ass house. I’m fucking jealous. Own it, man.”

“Uh, sure. Yeah, I guess it is pretty nice. I mean, my dad’s a lawyer, so you know,” Kyle said, trailing off quickly as Cartman stared at his house in awe. “You can come over sometime, if you’d like. Probably not tonight, since it’s so late, but another time maybe?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah sure, why not.”

“Uh, okay then,” Cartman said, looking kind of blown away at the idea. It made Kyle blush a little under the light of the lamp closest to the sidewalk leading up to his front door. “Take my number then, and I’ll get yours.”

Woah. Boy number. What the fuck was happening? Kyle was definitely dreaming. “Okay!” he said, trying desperately not to sound eager, but failing miserably. “Here!” He quickly shoved his iPhone into the other guys hands. They silently exchanged numbers, and then Kyle tucked his phone away.

“I’m gonna go now, okay?” Cartman said hesitantly, like he was checking to see if that was okay with him. “Can you make it up there?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said rolling his eyes. “I’m fine. I’m not that drunk.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, both not sure what to do next.

“Uh, okay bye,” Cartman said quickly, and stubbled a bit as he walked backwards. He bumped into Kyle’s mailbox, and his eyes grew big. “Fuck.”

“Look who’s drunk now, asshole,” Kyle said, smirking.

“Shut up, Bathroom Boy. Okay, bye for real now. Bye.”

Kyle watched at the other boy sprinted across the street, and then walked briskly back the way he came. Wow, did he really walk all that way with Kyle back to his house when it was out of the way of his own house? That would make sense, because Clyde’s house was back towards North Park.

Inside, the house was silent as Kyle gently removed his shoes and snuck upstairs. His sock feet made soft pats on the carpet as he scurried up to his room and shut the door. Exhausted, Kyle pulled off his shirt and pants, and hopped into his bed in just his underwear. He still felt a little light headed, and the room was subtly spinning. Before putting his phone on the counter, he flipped it over and scrolled through his contacts. There was only one he didn’t already recognise. It said, “Eric Cartman” with the little emoji of a hand flipping him off.

Woah. Boy number.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry it's been a couple months. I'm about to graduate college, and life has been totally crazy. I have to finish all my projects, graduate, and then soon find a job and a place to life. (upside down smiley face) haaaah. So I've been pretty stressed out. But I really want to keep writing this fic, and I have a whole plan for it. I have a whole time line and everything on my phone. And I know exactly how it'll end. So bare with me. Here's a shorter chapter, only because I liked where it ended. Hopefully I'll post more soon. As always, your comments keep me going!!

On Saturday morning, the next day, Kyle was woken up by the fresh smell of his favorite breakfast: strawberry pancakes with whipped cream.

He pulled on a pair of pajama pants and slid down the stairs, making sure to avoid hi brother Ike who was ascending with a plate full of fluffy stacks of goodness.

“Since when does mom let us eat in our rooms?” Kyle said, eyeing up the plate.

“Dude! Shut up!”

“Bubby? Ike, are you taking that plate upstairs!?” Kyle heard his mother shriek from the kitchen. “You know you’re not allowed to bring food upstairs!”

Ike flinched, and glared at his older brother. “Thanks a lot, Captain Blabbermouth.”

Kyle snickered, and continued down the stairs. Hey, at least Captain Blabbermouth was better than Bathroom Boy.

Inside the kitchen, Mrs. Broflovski was pouring a steady stream of batter into a buttered pan, and as Kyle strolled in, she said, “You’re plate is on the table, sweetie.”

“Thanks, mom.”

Kyle took a few mouthfuls of pancake, and sighed. Sweet, syrupy deliciousness, complete with ripe strawberries. Absolutely perfect.

He could feel a shadow of a hangover hanging over her head as there was a dull pounding behind his eyes, but big gulps of orange juice helped.

“What’s your plan today, Kyle?”

His thoughts immediately went to his no good coward of a best friend. That jerk. Kyle was for going to give him a piece of his mind, or at least that’s what he thought to himself. He knew that as soon as he got over there, he’d see Stan’s goofy, sad face, with his big blue puppy dog eyes, and he’d immediately forgive him. That big jerk.

“I thought I’d go see Stan. I think he needed some help with math homework,” Kyle replied, nonchalantly. That wasn’t exactly a lie; admittedly, Stan did need math help.

“Okay. Just don’t be out too late.”

“Sure, mom.”

Kyle silently thanked God that his mom didn’t wake up last night when he had come home. She would not be making his favorite breakfast or calling him pet names if she had known where he was last night.

After he had stuffed the remainder of the pancakes into his mouth, Kyle ran upstairs to shower. About thirty minutes later, Kyle was out the door and walking the short distance over to Stan’s house. He knocked a couple of times on the front door, and then put his hands deep into his jean pockets. It was only 11:00 a.m., so Kyle was sure that Stan would still be asleep.

The door opened to reveal Sharon, who was still wearing her nightgown and slippers. She smiled at the sight of Kyle.

“Oh hello, sweetie. Come in.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Marsh.”

Inside, Kyle saw that yes, in fact most of the Marsh family was still asleep. The only one who appeared to be awake was Sharon, who climbed back into her cave of blankets on the couch and unpaused what looked to be some kind of daytime television show. With a closer look, Kyle saw it was one of those shows about those families that have fifty million fucking kids.

“Stan’s upstairs. He’s probably still asleep though,” she said, watching the screen where a frazzled looking woman was crying and holding three babies at once. Two other little kids pulled at her skirt while a small dog was peeing in the corner.

“Thank you, Mrs. Marsh.”

Upstairs, Kyle had to knock multiple times on his door until finally Stan opened it, clutching the comforter around his shoulders and yawning.

“Oh, hey dude.”

Kyle narrowed his eyes and gave him a look.

“What’s with the- oh shit,” Stan said as his face fell.

“Oh shit is right, douchebag,” Kyle replied, and walked into his room.

Stan followed him in. “About last night. Oh Jesus, look, Kyle I’m so sorry. I was so shit-faced, okay, and Wendy was there. And I knew you’d be fine, because you’re smart and stuff, and oh man, I really am a jerk, aren’t I?” Stan dropped the comforter in defeat, and covered his face with his hands.

Kyle laughed. “Yeah, you are. But whatever. I’m not a baby. I handled myself.”

Stan peeked out from between his fingers, and said quietly, “Promise?”

“Yeah, dude. It’s fine. But you owe me.”

“Dude, of course! Anything!” Stan said, smiling. “So, how was the rest of the party? Did I miss anything cool?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Naw, it was lame. I did drink a bit with your buddy Clyde though. He was with this other chick named Bebe.” Kyle conveniently made sure to skip out on the part where Wendy was also there.

“Oh yeah, that’s Clyde’s girlfriend. She’s on their cheerleading team,” Stan said, collapsing onto his bed. “I’m pretty sure Wendy is friends with her.”

“Yeah… anyway. We did shots, and I had some mixed drinks.”

Dude…”

“What?!”

“That’s crazy. I can’t believe you actually let loose and had fun!” Stan said, looking shocked, and Kyle couldn’t help but feel a little insulted.

“I do have fun!”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Kyle, reading the school assigned books don’t count. So what happened next?”

“Well, once I realized that you had left, I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. But I couldn’t see anyone I knew.”

“Oh shit, really? Where was Butters?”

“I dunno. I couldn’t find him. But I did see that other guy,” Kyle felt blush creep up his neck. “Eric. He walked me home.”

“Who?”

“You know. Eric Cartman. The one who’s friend’s with that other guy Kenny.”

“Oh yeah! Cartman. Dude, he walked you home? That’s new for you.”

Kyle laughed. “Yeah, well… he’s different. He’s… mysterious.”

“Well, I mean, not to rain on your gay parade, but he’s not _that_ mysterious,” Stan said, grinning. “He’s just a guy who goes to North Park, I mean like, my buddies over there all know him,” he said.

“Really? What do they say? Not that I care about their opinions, or anything. But I’m not gonna lie, and say I’m not curious.”

“Well, they say he used to be pretty weird. Like, in a crazy kind of way. He would pull all kinds of pranks, and stuff. Some of them were actually dangerous.”

“Like what?”

“Clyde’s buddy Craig told me once that he had like, a big bonfire party at his house, and that when he asked Cartman to give him some water to put it out, the big guy gave him some of Craig’s mom’s vodka he found in the fridge.”

Kyle’s mouth dropped. “What?”

“Right!? And this wasn’t like, recent either. This apparently happened back in like, sixth grade. The flames ended up exploded in Craig’s face and burning off his eyebrows for like, a year.”

“That’s uh, kind of messed up,” Kyle said nervously.

“I think it’s kind of funny.”

“Shut up!”

In retaliation, Kyle used his one ‘owe you one’ to make Stan come to the South Park library with him to study. Stan moaned and complained the whole way there, and once they were inside and seated at their own table, he ignored his work in favor of texting under the table.

They were tucked deep back behind the racks of books and magazines. The library was relatively deserted, except for a few students here or there.

Kyle coughed a bit to get his Stan’s attention. “So uh, about Cartman.

““Huh,” he said, setting his phone down. “What about him?”

“You said he used to be weird. He seemed okay when I talked to him. I mean, he was quiet, but he didn’t seem… crazy. Definitely not ‘toss some vodka into a fire’ crazy,” Kyle said, using air quotes to emphasize.

“Well, apparently it got so bad that his mom had to send him away to some kind of center the summer after sophomore year. And when he got back, well, I guess something happened. Clyde says he wasn’t the same after that. A lot quieter. Still an asshole, but more… introverted,” Stan said, his mouth turned down in thought.

Kyle was silent for a few moments, until he blurted out, “We exchanged numbers!”

A smile grew on Stan’s face. “Dude! Nice. Have you text him yet?”

“I was kind of hoping he’d text me first, but I haven’t gotten anything yet,” Kyle said sheepishly.

To be honest, Kyle was absolutely terrified to text Cartman. Last night had been fun for Kyle, but who knows how the other boy had felt. Kyle was betting everything on the idea that Cartman would just text him first, but the longer he waited, the more anxious he felt. But the thought of texting first made Kyle’s stomach twist into knots.

The rest of the day was relatively uneventful; Kyle helped Stan study, and Stan returned to favor by telling Kyle on the walk home everything else he knew about the large brunette from the party. After they had parted ways, Kyle had dinner with his family, and then played video games in his room until he passed out.

The next day, Kyle woke up and immediately checked his phone for messages. Nothing.

That wasn’t unusual for Kyle. He wasn’t the most social guy, so for the most part, his phone was usually devoid of activity, except for the occasional text from Stan or missed call from his mom. A part of him was desperately wishing that the guy from the party would text him, but then there was a huge other part of him that was screaming in anxiety. What would he even say if the guy did text him!? Kyle ended up just scrolling through various social media sites for awhile, jerked off absentmindedly in the shower, and then spent the rest of the day watching _Marvel_ movies in his pajamas.

Once the weekend was over, the party was beginning to just feel like a bad dream. Good dream? Maybe a little of both; Kyle couldn’t tell.

By the time Monday rolled around, and he stood at the bus stop with Stan, the memories from that Friday night had faded completely to the back of his mind where his fantasies lived. Drunk Party Kyle? Who’s that?

“Did he ever text you?”

“Who?”

Stan rolled his eyes. “You know who, dumbass. Cartman.”

“Oh… no. He didn’t.”

“Did you ever text him?”

“Uhh…”

“Kyle!”

“What?” he through his hands up in defense. “It didn’t feel like the right time!”

Stan shook his head, but was still smiling. “When will it be the right time?”

“I don’t know!”

They bickered a little longer about how Kyle should just suck it up, and do it until the bus came. Once on the bus, they sat next to each other  in silence; Kyle playing games on his phone and Stan quickly scribbling down on his unfinished homework.

The rest of the day flew by, uneventfully. As did the next day. And the day after that. Finally, by Thursday, Kyle had completely pushed the thought of texting Cartman first way in the back of his mind, along with all the other things he wished he could do, like run for class president or take a road trip without his mom’s permission. That is, until he the end of the day in his last class when his phone suddenly beeped.

Kyle froze, and glanced down at his phone where it rested in his book bag. Then, he glanced around. The teacher was still lecturing, and it seemed like nobody had heard his phone go off. That’s weird… why did it go off at all? He was going to see Stan on the bus ride home, so why wouldn’t he just wait to talk to him then? Or it could be his mom. But she should be at the mall right now, getting her hair done, so Kyle doubted that she would be texting him right now.

There was still a few minutes left in class, but his curiosity got the better of him, so Kyle carefully, so as to not disturb the lecture, reached down and grabbed his phone.  

The screen displayed one new message from… Eric Cartman, little middle finger emoji and all. Kyle’s heart seized up. Oh no. This was not happening. Why did he have to go to that stupid  party and talk to some stupid, frustratingly handsome boy!? Why’d he have to get drunk off his ass and have to be walked home by said boy. And now Kyle’s whole calm, little world felt like it was being violently uprooted like some dead oak tree.

The teach was still talking, so Kyle quickly pulled his phone under his desk and slid his shaking finger on the touchscreen. What did he have to say? What if he wanted to… hang out?! Kyle was not used to making new friends, much less dating them either. Oh god, what had he gotten himself into…

Kyle looked around, making sure nobody was paying him any attention, and then opened up the message.

 

**hey jew lol**

 

Oh… _oh._ Wait, what!? Kyle’s brows drew together. What… was this? What the hell?

“That asshole,” the other boy muttered, and then received a few stares from his surrounding classmates, so he quickly shut up.

Who does this guy think he is!?

Kyle felt his heart quicken, as he careful set his phone back onto his lap. His hands curled into fists, and he felt like he was going to punch somebody. How dare that guy!? That’s not even funny! And how did he even know he was Jewish?

He purposely didn’t reply to the message, until he got a second one a few minutes later.

 

**whats up?**

 

Oh, know he wants to know ‘what’s up?’ After belittling his people like that? Oh, nuh uh. Just wait until Stan gets a load of this guy…

After class, Kyle practically sprinted outside the school where the buses all lined up to take the students back home. As soon as he saw Stan, standing with his backpack slung over his shoulder, Kyle ran right up to him, completely ignoring Butter’s, who seemed to be chatting to Stan about something.

“Dude, check this out. That guy? Cartman? He’s such an asshole!”

Stan just laughed. “Um.. wait. Did you text him, and he didn’t reply, or something?”

“Uh, no. He replied alright. He texted me first, and look!”

At that final ‘look’, Kyle send out the evidence with a wild expression on his face. He waved the phone around in Stan’s face, and Butter’s curiously leaned in to see, too.

“Stop waving it around, Kyle! I can’t read it when you do that,” Stan complained, and then snatched the phone out of his friends hands. He read over Cartman’s two messages, and then rolled his eyes. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean? Yes, that’s it! That jerk insulted my people!”

“I mean, he hardly insulted them. You are Jewish, right?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

So technically, you are a Jew, right?” Stan said, his eyes playful.

Kyle glared. “Yeah, but still, the way he said it though. And how’d he even know?”

“Ah, well I told him,” Butter’s piped in, shuffling awkwardly.

Kyle zeroed in on the smaller blonde with a deadpan expression. “What?”

“Yeah, I mean. We hung out the other day, right? Eric, Ken, and I, and I uh, he was asking a lot about you, right? So I just… mentioned some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“That’s you’re Jewish. And really smart. And that you’re shy but, um, get angry sometimes.”

Kyle’s eyebrows drew together for the second time that day. “What do you mean…. Get angry sometimes…” Butter’s face dropped, as he looked panicked at Stan.

“He doesn’t mean anything. Now, come on. Our bus is here,” Stan said quickly, saving poor Butter’s life by ushering Kyle away.

On the ride home, Kyle was silently brooding, his forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window. How could Stan just… not care. He had been so impressed by that guy; so excited that someone so mysterious could want to be his friend. Turns out he’s just another jerk.

“Whatever,” Kyle mumbled into the window.

Back at home, Kyle was extremely grateful that his mom was still at her hair appointment, and probably wouldn’t be back until at least dinner time. Ike was already home from middle school, and deflated onto the couch like an empty balloon. He looked like a zombie holding an Xbox controller.

“Hey,” he grumbled, sounding like a zombie, too.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“M’don’t feel good,” he replied, snuffling a bit.

“Okay… well, I’ll be in my room if you need anything, okay?”

“Mmm’kay.”

Kyle nodded, and then went into the kitchen to grab a soda. He opened the fizzy beverage, and took a nice deep gulp while checking his phone. There was another text from Cartman. He must have gotten it on the bus without noticing.

 

**dude. you there? did i do something wrong?**

 

Hah! Funny. Kyle couldn’t believe this guy. He clicked the lock button on the side of his phone, and took another drink from the can while heading upstairs. With his mom out, his dad still at work, and Ike feeling sick, nothing sounded better right now to Kyle than some good ol’ fashioned alone time. Once he reached the top of the stairs, making sure to hold the can steady, as to not spill any soda and leave any evidence for his mom to find, Kyle walked down the hall, and opened the door to his room. He was just starting to feel excited to finally get some peace and quiet, when…

“Hey.”

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back. I'm surprised I actually pumped this next chapter out, but I was just so excited to write this scene. Hope you guys like reading it as much as I liked writing it! Remember, comments fuel me. Thanks!

Kyle’s room looked normal as it always did. His bed was messy, just the way he had left it that morning, and his old Go Cows! poster was hanging in the same spot on the wall next to the window as it always was. The framed photo of Albert Einstein above his bed stared back at him, innocently. There was just one thing that was out of place, now that Kyle thought about it… 

Oh yeah. Eric Cartman was standing in the middle of his room. 

“Are you crazy?!” Kyle shrieked. 

“A little bit,” he shrugged, and then said, “but that’s besides the point. Why didn’t you text me back?” Both of his hands were shoved into the large front pocket of a baggy black sweatshirt, and he had a huge shit-eating grin plastered across his face. 

Kyle squawked, and threw up his arms in defeat. “I don’t believe this. I just don’t believe it. How did you even…?”

“You’re little brother let me in,” Cartman said, smirking. 

“That bastard…” And here Kyle thought he was being such a kind and considerate older brother by offering to take care of the poor, feeble sick boy. Hah hah hah. Funny joke. That must’ve been pay back for the other day with the pancakes… 

“Well, in my defense, you did say I could come over, remember?”

Kyle vaguely remembered that yes, on their first night meeting, he had maybe mentioned something about Cartman coming over. But that would’ve only been with his parents permission, of course. And within at least a couple days notice. 

“Yeah, but-” Kyle clambered to say something intelligent, but it was hard to think of anything when there was a 6 foot tall, actual real, half-decent (especially in that hoodie) looking guy standing in his room. Damn it, idiot! Make words! 

“So, why didn’t you text me back?” Cartman said a little quieter this time, his expression unreadable. “Did I do something wrong?”

Momentarily, Kyle let go of the fact that this guy he had just met a few days ago was actually in his room, and remembered the text from earlier. Oh yeah! This guy was a jerk! Admittedly, a handsome jerk. But still, seemed like a real piece of work. 

“Um, yeah,” Kyle said, his eyebrows furrowing, “do you even think first before you type something? I mean, wow.”

“What?!” 

“Lol. Laugh out loud. He’s a jew. Hi jew. Hah hah, so funny, right!” Kyle said glaring, feeling himself getting increasingly more aggravated by the second. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to make fun of somebody’s religion?”

Cartman’s face was still unreadable. “Ah, right. Butter’s said you were sensitive, but I wasn’t sure. Okay, no Jew jokes. Got it, cap’n,” he said, making a fake little salute.

“Uh uh, no way asshole. You don’t get off that easily,” Kyle said, frowning. “And what the fuck does that mean? Sensitive?”

The other boy grinned. “Oh, now I see what they meant.”

“See what who meant? Meant by what?” Kyle felt the tips of his ears and the back of his neck burning. He tried his best to make some kind of pouty, angry face, but Cartman just kept eyeing him up with that same toothy grin. “What?!” Kyle said again, persistently.

“What’s wrong? You gonna stamp your feet, or something?”

“Okay, that’s it. Get out of my room, fatass.” 

Okay, that might have been a little too low for Kyle’s taste in insults, but god damn it, he was angry! Nobody had ever made him feel this upset. This… heated. 

At the sound of ‘fatass’, Cartman suddenly burst out into heavy laughter. He heaved over, and shook with laughter. “Oh my god. I can’t believe… I haven’t heard that one in years.” 

Kyle stayed silent, his cheeks flush and still burning their way up his face.

Slowly, his laughter died down. Sometime during their bickering, the space between them had decreased drastically in distance, so that suddenly, Kyle was distinctly aware of the lack of oxygen near him. Oh wow, has him room always been this hot? 

“I like you, Broflovski.”

“Oh… um thanks? How’d you know my last name.”

“I looked you up on Facebook. Do you actually have 201 friends in real life?”

“Shut up! I found your Instagram. Nice black and white pictures of food, Picasso.”

“Picasso was a painter, Kyle. I’m a photographer.”

“Posting on social media with a Valencia filter and a hashtag does  _ not  _ make you a photographer, Cartman.”

The other boy let out a loud, barking laugh. “See! I like that. You’re feisty. I miss that. Nobody talks to me like that anymore.”

“Uh… you’re welcome?” Kyle said, hesitantly. He could barely keep up with this strange boy. One second, he was so infuriating Kyle wanted to slap that stupid grin of his face, and the next second… okay, he was serious about to pass out from lack of oxygen. All he could smell was this cute, dumb boy’s shampoo and he was so close to him… and his sweatshirt looked so soft and comfy. Oh no. 

“Do you want to go out sometime?”

_ Oh no. OH NO. _

Kyle’s whole body froze in place, as he felt freezing cold ice water dribble down his back. “W-what did you say?”

“Look, usually I hate people. I used to try so hard to make people to like me, until I decided, fuck it. Don’t care,” Cartman said quietly, his shoulders retreating shyly, “but I’m sick of it. I don’t want to admit it, but… I’m sad, okay? I feel like I’m wasting time.” The other boy’s expression turned dark and brooding. He looked genuinely upset.

Suddenly, Kyle understood. Wasting time. That’s what he had been feeling. His whole life has been nothing but listening to what other people, especially his parents, told him to do. Kyle, do your homework. Kyle, go to class. No, Kyle, you can’t hang out with friends, you need to study. Kyle, you can’t enjoy your summer, you need to go to some stupid pre-college camp and waste your last few months as a teenager reading textbooks and writing papers. Don’t you even want a job, Kyle? 

“I… completely understand,” he said quietly. “You feel like you’re wasting time doing what you think everybody else wants you to do… when you should be living your life.”

“Exactly, Kyle!” Suddenly, Cartman was grabbing his shoulders tightly and shaking him. “Aren’t you sick of it? Aren’t you tired of constantly being told what you can and can’t do?”

“Yeah, I am. I really am.”

Cartman let go of his shoulders. “Thatta boy. So, look. Let’s put that pesky Jew text behind us, okay? Water under the bridge. Are you free tomorrow night?”

Oh yeah. That’s right, Kyle remembered. He was being asked out…. by a real guy. “Um, tomorrow? That’s Friday night,” he said, mostly to himself. “I think so… wait. Are you even like, out? You know, like  _ out  _ out?”

Suddenly, Cartman looked for the first time actually uncomfortable. “Well, not exactly. A few people know. Okay, just two people actually. Kenny and Butters.” He was quiet, avoiding Kyle’s eyes. “I don’t know. It’s weird. I know I’m, um…”

“Gay?”

“Uh, yeah. That. I’m just… yeah.”

Kyle felt sympathetic. He was only out to a few people as well. If his parents found out… he didn’t know what they’d do. He knew his mom loved him, but he couldn’t imagine having to deal with them knowing. But that itself hurt him; feeling like he couldn’t share a huge, key part of his whole being with the people he loved most in the world. “Yeah, I get it. We can keep it low-key, if you want. But just a heads up, my friend Stan knows. I told him we exchanged numbers, and stuff.”

Cartman laughed. “Oooo have you been talking about me, Bathroom Boy?” He wiggled his eyebrows. All of the awkwardness and unsurety from before seemed to have disappeared from him immediately. 

“Shut up, loser,” Kyle said, cringing at the embarrassing nickname. “But yeah, a little bit. To be honest, this whole thing kind of freaks me out. I’ve never like, you know. Dated anyone before.” 

“Well, that makes two of us,” Cartman shrugged. 

“Wait, really?” For some reason, this surprised Kyle. Eric Cartman seemed… cool. He seemed mysterious and was definitely cute. He had been sure the guy would have at least dated someone before. 

“Surprised?”

“Well, I mean, a little bit, yeah.”

“This might come as a bit of a shock,” he said, grinning, “but I havn’t always been this devilishly good-looking. Remember when I said I was a little shit as a kid? I really wasn’t kidding. I was fat, too. The classic neighborhood angry fat kid.” 

For some reason, Kyle didn’t like the way he was talking about himself. He said his jokingly, but Kyle could tell in his eyes, there was some hurt there, but he didn’t say anything about it.  “Aw, don’t say that.”

“No, I’m serious. I don’t want to get too much into it, but seriously. I sucked,” Cartman said, taking that moment to collapse onto Kyle’s bed. 

Kyle joined him quietly, sinking into the comforter. Although not quite fat, Cartman was definitely heavier than Kyle, so he made a pretty decent shift in the bed. Kyle felt him sliding into the other boy, as he weighed down the other side. “No way. How bad could you have been? I mean, come on.”

Cartman laughed. “You really wanna know? You might not forgive me.”

“Try me.”

“I was Hitler for Halloween one year.”

Kyle’s mouth dropped. “No fucking way. You degenerate, little-”

“You said you wanted to know!” Cartman said, with his hands up in protest as Kyle slapped him repeatedly. 

“You big bigot, Cartman! What the hell!”

“I told you it was bad! I was 9 years old, okay? I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Bullshit. I call bullshit.”

Cartman was silent, and then, “Okay, fine. I knew exactly what I was doing. Look, I was a messed up kid, okay! I didn’t get enough attention from people to fuel my childish ego, so I did stupid and offensive stuff to try and get noticed. It was a cry for help!”

“Cry for help, my ass…” Kyle mumbled, but stopped slapping the other boy nonetheless. Part of him could understand. Kids did stupid things for attention. And South Park was a pretty crazy town. Kyle could remember himself doing some pretty stupid and awful stuff, now that he thought about it. So who was he to judge. “So… you want to hang out sometime?”

Cartman grinned, and pinched him. “Yeah. Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Um, ouch. Don’t pinch me. And yeah, sure. Fuck it, let’s do it.”

“Sweet.”

Suddenly, a loud rumbling noise filled the whole house. The garage door. “Fuck, that’s my mom. You gotta get out of here, dude,” Kyle said, pushing the larger boy off his bed and towards the window. “It’s too late for the front door. She’s probably already-”

“Oh, bubbies! My darling, wonderful boys!” Kyle could here his mom say in her loud, almost sing-songy voice. “Mummy’s home from the parlor, and looking fabulous!”

“Okay, now you really need to go,” Kyle said urgently, shooing the other boy even closer to the window. 

Cartman rolled his eyes. “Stop pushing me. I’m going, okay,” he said, and Kyle let go. 

Together, they hoisted the window open, and helped Cartman swing both legs out. He held onto the window ledge, and winked at Kyle.”

“See you, Jew boy.”

“Fuck you,” Kyle said, but couldn’t help but smile. 

“Maybe, but let’s just see how the first date goes,” Cartman responded, with another toothy grin. Kyle felt his whole face light up, as a warm feeling gripped his belly. Before he could even shoot back some kind of half-assed witty reply, Cartman had already started to descend the roof, and before Kyle knew it, the boy had jumped down into his backyard and ran off. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

“UH,” Kyle said in a high pitched voice, his mouth feeling dry, “COME IN.”

The door to his room opened a bit, and the round rosy face of his mother peeked in. “Kyle, dear. Are you okay?”

He whipped around to face her, trying to calm his frantically racing heart. Oh god, he was so gay. So very gay. 

“Um, yes mother. I’m fine.”

Mrs. Broflovski gave him a weird look, and said slowly, “Oh… kay, dear. I’m starting dinner, okay? It should be ready soon. Make sure you do some studying tonight, okay?”

Kyle just nodded furiously, until his mother finally shut the door. The red faced boy let out the bubble of air he had been holding in his chest with a loud sigh. He pulled out his phone, which was still tucked into his pocket, and immediately pulled up Stan’s number and pushing the call button. He answered a few rings later, sounding sleepy. 

“Dude, what? I was napping. This better be good.”

“I have a date.”

Kyle heard a loud smack, and some kind of expletive, before after a few seconds, he heard Stan’s breathless voice again. 

“Ouch, sorry I dropped my phone on my face, but that doesn’t matter at all becAUSE WHAT THE FUCK? HOW? WHO?”

Kyle fell back onto his own bed, and curled up into his blankets. He felt totally stupid, like a teenage girl in those romantic comedies, but he didn’t care at all. Damn it, after 17 years of being a lonely gay, he deserved this!

“Dude! With that guy! Eric Cartman!”

“Wait, dude. I thought we hated him. What happened?”

“Ok, listen…”

Kyle proceeded to tell his best friend everything that had just happened. From his surprised at Cartman being in his room, to the invigorating and heated almost fight (that could have been partially flirting? Kyle had no clue, to be perfectly fucking frank), to the strange intimate conversation about wasting life doing what other people expected from you. He described everything, leaving out only the little bits of conversation Kyle couldn’t remember. He even shyly added in Cartman’s last comment, for good measure. 

“Dude…” Stan said, sound speechless. 

“What do you think? Do you think he like, likes me, or what?”

“Dude… he totally wants to bang you,” Stan said, sounding genuinely excited. 

“You think so?” Kyle replied, not wanting to sound unrealistically optimistic, but still happy. 

“Yeah, totally. Trust me on this. You are headed to Pound Town, my friend.”

“Oh my god, shut the actual fuck up,” Kyle said, humiliated. “Stop, just stop.”

He could hear Stan laughing on the other end. “No, but I’m serious. This could be it, Kyle. You’re last great escapade before becoming a real, actual adult.”

“You really think so? You think I should go for it?”

“Are you kidding me, dude? This is going to make you so happy. I know it. After how much shit you go through, what with your mom and stuff? You deserve this, Kyle.”

Aww. His best friend was doing that thing where he’s a best friend, and stuff. “Aww… bro,” Kyle said, feeling actually touched. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Kyle. You know I do. Now text that guy back, and get your ass pounded.”

“Okay, and now you just ruined it. You’re disgusting.”

Stan was laughing again. “I’m sorry, dude. I have to. You know I have to.”

Kyle was about to respond, when he felt the phone buzz against his face. He pulled it back and said one new message from Eric Cartman. The little middle finger emoji had started to become rather enduring now, Kyle had to admit.

“Fuck, Stan. He texted me. What do I do?”

“Hang up and text him back, dumbass!”

“Ahhh,” Kyle screamed into the phone, and then said really quickly, all at once, “Okay.Bye.I’llTalkToYouLater.OkayBye.”

“Hang up, asshole!”

“Ahhhhh.”

Kyle clicked the end call button, and was half tempted to wind up and shoot his phone across his room and into his laundry basket of dirty socks and underwear. But he resisted the urge, and instead clumsily dragged open the one new message. 

 

**i’ll pick you up 2morrow at 7**

 

Oh my god. He used the little 2 as a replacement for the to in tomorrow. Kyle felt like screaming. What a fucking nerd, oh my god. He quickly tapped out a reply, and ended up throwing his phone across the room into his laundry basket anyway, just for good measure. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for being patient with me. I just started summer, and it's been crazy with my current job, and looking for a new job, and apartment hunting and everything. I'm hoping to get the next chapter pumped out soon, so bear with me. For now, enjoy our boys being cute dorks.

Kyle paced his room back and forth, tossing different shades of collared shirts and khakis into messy piles. He held his phone up to his ear, scrunching his face towards his shoulder to clamp the phone in place, so it wouldn’t come crashing to the floor along with the discarded clothes. 

“Okay, Stan. I’ve narrowed the choices down. I have six total piles,” Kyle muttered into his iphone, which was still wedged precariously against him. “There’s the Absolutely Not pile of khakis and the Absolutely Not pile of shirts. And then next is the Maybe I’ll Consider It pile of khakis, and the same for the shirts. But then the last pile is My Favorite, But Not Sure piles!”

“Um, Kyle?”

“ Those are the worst, actually, surprising enough, because they are my favorites, but that just makes it feel like they’re clouding my judgement, you know?”

“Kyle…”

“Like, how do I know I’m not just picking this specific set of khakis and shirt because they’re just my favorite. I need to actually consider the circumstance, and weigh all my choices honestly, and not let my favoritism get in the way off-”

“Jesus Christ, KYLE,” Stan screamed. 

The other boy stopped dead in his tracks, the phone almost slipping from his shoulder. Kyle composed himself, stopping the phone from falling at the last second, and then said, “Oh.. uh, what’s up?”

“Oh my god, I thought you’d never shut up. Dude, isn’t he coming to get you in like, 5 minutes?” 

Kyle’s heart froze. No… that can’t be right. He said he was coming at seven tonight, and that’s like an hour away and… he glanced down at his phone, and read the time. 

Oh god, it was 6:55. 

“Aw shit… I have to go. He’s gonna be here any minute.”

“Um, yeah. I know,” Stan said, and Kyle could almost hear his eyes rolling through the phone. “Just go with that green flannel. You like that one.”

“Oh… oh yeah. I forgot about that one,” Kyle replied, fishing his favorite button up from the back of his closet. It was plain, but had a comfy look to it. The fabric was a soft cotton, that buttoned up all the way from the bottom to the top, but Kyle often liked to leave the last couple of buttons undone. 

He pulled the flannel up and over his head, making sure to set Stan down on his dressed first. The hole at the top of the shirt just barely fit over his untameable mass of red curls. He yanked the flannel all the way down over his grey undershirt, and then admired himself in the full length mirror his mom had just got him. He looked… nice. 

Not so suspicious that his mother would start to wonder, just in case he had an unfortunate encounter with her while trying to leave, but still nice enough that he hoped Cartman would notice. Although Cartman didn’t really quite seem like the kind of guy who would appreciate this kind of stuff, to be honest. Now that he thought about it, Kyle felt kind of stupid. There was no fucking way Cartman would care about what shade of khakis Kyle was wearing that night. 

He did a half turn and admired his backside in the mirror. Fortunately, the pair he was wearing today was a rather complimenting fit to his, er… behind. 

“Kyle, are you checking out your butt again?”

“Oh god, no. Wait, how’d you know?” Kyle said, mortified. 

He could hear his best friend snickering from the other side. “I just had a hunch.”

“Fuck you. Okay, I have to go for real. Bye.”

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Out in the hallway, Kyle stopped by the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face and run his wet fingers through his hair to try and flatten it a bit. He felt like his cheeks were on fire. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Cartman had looked at him… like he was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. Or how he had made Kyle feel… like he wanted to punch him, but also kiss his stupid face at the exact same time. Oh god…

Kyle covered his face with his hands, and peeked out at his reflection. Great. Now his face really was red. The blush was creeping up from his collarbone and reaching up along his cheeks. The shade almost matched his hair. 

He tried to flatten the curls one last time, pressing them down and trying to smooth them over, but as soon as he would slowly peel his hand away, the curls would spring to life once again. He hated how massive his hair got; he felt like it was distracting and made his face look unproportional.

Just as he was contemplating if it was worth getting crucified by his mother for a secret haircut, Kyle felt a buzzing sensation on his ass. 

He fished the iphone out of his back pocket and saw the ever familiar name and emoji. The other boy had sent only one short word.

 

**here**

 

Suddenly, it felt like his heart had dropped straight into his stomach. Oh god, what did he get himself into… 

Quickly, Kyle typed back a reply, tucked his phone away, and grabbed his green hat he had left on the bathroom counter. He pulled the hat on over top of his unruly curls and quietly crept out of his room, tip toeing past his parents room, where he could hear the sound of the shower water loudly. Hopefully this would give him the right amount of cover to just maybe…

“Where are you going?”

Fuck.

Kyle froze, slowly tearing his eyes away from his parents room and turning to see his little brother leaning against the doorway of his open room, his one hand on his hip and the other holding a plate of two steaming hot pockets. The bright, fluorescent light of his desktop computer glowing from inside. 

“Oh, hey little bro,” Kyle stumbled through his words, standing up a little straighter.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Ike said, take a big bit of the savory snack and chewing slowly. He swallowed, and Kyle began to feel his palms sweat. 

“U-um, I’m uh- going to visit a friend,” Kyle said. That wasn’t technically a lie, right? Eric was  _ technically _ his friend now, right? 

“Stan?”

Kyle gulped. He knew damn well that Ike knew Stan had practice tonight. It was Tuesday night, and Stan always had football practice Tuesday nights. So there goes that cover. 

“Uh, no. Another friend actually.”

“Do you even have other friends besides Stan?”

Damn that noisy little Canadian…

“Um…” Fuck, who were his friends? Who was he even friends with? He really didn’t have any other friends, did he?! Kyle thought about saying Butters, or Wendy even, but Ike could easily figure out if he was lying, since he pretty much knew everyone in South Park. He had to say someone Ike didn’t know. But he couldn’t say Cartman. He really didn’t want the name of the boy who he could potentially be dating to get around to his mom…

“Kyle? I’m waiting,” his brother said again, taking another lazy bite of the hot pocket. The little prick was probably still angry from when Kyle ratted him out yesterday about taking food upstairs… 

“Uh, his name’s Kenny. He’s just a dude I met at a party. We uh, we were gonna go play Xbox at his house. No big deal.”

Ike’s eyes immediately narrowed. “Kenny…. McCormick?”

Fuuuuuuck….

“How in the hell…?” Kyle said, starting to sound panicked. He felt something buzz in his pocket again. That was probably Cartman wondering where the hell he was.

His little brother rolled his eyes, shuffling the pink plastic plate of hot pocket over to the other arm, and made a waving gesture. “I know his sister, Karen. We met at the library last summer and,” he smirked, “her family doesn’t even own an Xbox.”

God damn it… 

Kyle sighed and pitched the bridge of his nose. Canadians… “Okay, what do you want.”

“Thirty bucks. And a legit hint as to where you’re going for real,” Ike said, popping the last bite of the first pocket into his open mouth. “I’m pretty curious actually, to tell you the truth.”

“You’re the most evil little thirteen year old I’ve ever met…” Kyle replied, gritting his teeth, as he yanked out his wallet. There goes a decent chunk of his spending money for the rest of the month, but it was worth it. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. At least this’ll make us even for when you ratted me out yesterday,” Ike said, still grinning. 

“I knew you were still salty about that,” Kyle grumbled, forking over two twenty dollar bills and a ten. “And if you must know,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I’m kinda sorta going on… um, a date, at least I think it might be.” The words came out rushed; Kyle could feel heat crawling up his face. 

Ike’s eyes got huge. “Oh shit, really? Who is she? What’s her name?” 

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Kyle said quickly, and started back down the stairs. He could hear Ike snickering all the way to the front door. 

Outside, the cool night air felt good against his flushed face. Thank god, he had almost avoided a full on massacre. If his mom had found out… he’d be dead meat. Kaput. Say goodbye to Kyle Broflowski. He wouldn’t even have to worry about that dumb college retreat his mom wanted to send him to. He’d already be long gone by then. 

Kyle walked down his block, looking around. He had told Cartman to park a little bit aways, just in case his mom did happen to glance outside. After a couple minutes of leisurely strolling, he saw a rather beat up small red car looking very out of place pulled up next to the sidewalk. It was hard to see who was in the driver’s seat, but when Kyle hesitantly approached, the front lights flickered to life, and a burly hand stuck out of the side and waved him over. 

He walked towards the car, and heard the passenger side door unlock with a heavy click. Kyle yanked at the handle a couple times without it budging, and then finally with one big heave, pulled open the door and slid inside. 

“Sorry. The handle on that door sticks,” Cartman said, sounding bored. “What happened in there? Somebody die?”

“Uh, no. I was trying to sneak out, and my brother caught me. I had to dish him out thirty bucks, the little asslicker….” Kyle muttered. “Sorry about that.”

Cartman shrugged. “Whatever, dude. Ready to go?”

“Uh, sure. Where are we going, anyway?” Kyle said, suddenly feeling nervous. The boy across from him was none too generous with information, and had not given any plans for what they were going to do that night. Now that he thought of it, Kyle couldn’t believe he had even agreed to this, without knowing anything. Maybe he really was changing…

Slowly, a sly smile grew on Cartman’s face. “You’ll see,” was all he said, and Kyle chuckled nervously in response, thinking back to the stories Stan had told him. 

“Um, okay dude, I’ll trust you, for now,” he quickly added on. 

Cartman just shrugged again, and started driving. 

Most of the car ride was spent in silence, Kyle awkwardly twiddling his thumbs, and Cartman holding the wheel, eyes focused on the road. The only time either of them spoke was when Kyle pointed towards the window where a raccoon was rustling through some poor chump’s garbage. The little creature poked his head up, trash clutched in his tiny paws. Both boys laughed at this, and it made the weird butterfly feeling flutter up in Kyle’s chest again. 

Finally, after probably 15 or so minutes of driving, Cartman turned down an unfamiliar dirt road. They were further away from the safety of the suburbs than Kyle liked; he didn’t recognize too much of the area, only that it was across from Stark’s Pond, opposite the side that Stan and him sometimes went to hang out. 

Cartman drove a little bit down the dirt road, until he turned into a clearing right next to the water. He pulled up and parked in a clear spot, and gestured with his hands out. “Ta-da.”

Kyle was quiet first, and then said unsure, “Um, you’re not going to murder me now, are you?”

The other boy let out a genuine bark of laughter, clutching the steering wheel with one hand, and the other patting Kyle on the back. “No, dude. I’m not here to kill you.”

“Then why are we here?”

“We’re gonna roast marshmellows, of course.”

Kyle’s thoughts immediately flew involuntarily back to the one specific story about this same guy burning someone’s eyebrows off in a fire, and his heart quickened a little bit. Fuck.

“Oh, cool.”

“Oh cool!?” Cartman mocked, his own eyebrows furrowing. “A cute boy takes you marshmallow roasting under a starlit sky and all you can say is oh cool? Unbelievably, Broflovski,” he scoffed, and climbed out of the car before Kyle could reply. 

Kyle didn’t really know how to respond without sounding like an asshole, so he just climbed out of the other side of the car, and went around back where Cartman was pulling some supplies out of the car’s trunk. He watched as the other boy gathered a criss-cross patterned plastic bag containing a few logs of firewood in one hand and a small canister of light fluid in the other. At least it wasn’t a bottle of vodka… Kyle happened to like his eyebrows. 

“Not that you deserve it, but can you grab the marshmallow stuff?” Cartman said, nodding his head towards the trunk. Silently, Kyle grabbed two bags of jumbo marshmallows and two metal skewers. 

Together, they walked over to what looked like a ring of rocks, like somebody had already been there before. In the center, there was what looked like burnt, crispy remains of splintering wood, now turned to charcoal. Cartman immediately squatted down and got to work. 

“Have you been here before?” Kyle asked quietly, after a moment. 

“Yep,” was all he said as he position the logs in a teepee shape. He stood up, unscrewed the lid of the canister, and sprinkled some of the flammable liquid on top. “You might wanna back up for this part,” he said, and Kyle eagerly took his advice, making sure to step a healthy distance away. 

He watched as Cartman produced a pack of matches out of the back pocket of his jeans, tore one out, struck it against the rough sandpaper side, and tossed it onto the pile of wood. Immediately, it burst into flames, and Kyle felt the heat lick his face. 

“How’s that feel?” Cartman said, glancing at the other boy. 

“Pretty good actually,” Kyle admitted. It was a little cool outside, and the Colorado wind next to the lake was especially unforgiving. 

“Good,” Cartman replied, and grabbed a skewer. After a few minutes, both boys had a marshmallow dangling over the fire. 

“So uh, is that your car?” Kyle said, hoping to start a conversation. 

“Not really. It’s my mom’s, but she doesn’t really like to drive now a days. Mostly she just stays at home. She works night shifts at that one diner off of South Wood Street, but I’ll usually drive her there and back.”

Kyle smiled gently. “That’s nice of you, Eric.”

The other boy picked at the dirt, watching his marshmallow crisp in the fire. “Yeah, I guess. I’ll gladly drive her there anytime. It beats what she used to do.”

“Which was…?”

Cartman winced. “Um, I don’t usually talk about that. But, um. She used to be an escort.”

Kyle paused. “A what?” But one look from Cartman, and he realized what he meant.  _ Oh.  _

“Oh, uh. Interesting?”

Cartman smirked, but it looked a little bitter. “It’s okay to be uncomfortable, dude. Most people are. Not that I tell most people, that is.” 

“No! I mean, it’s a job, right?” Kyle said, quickly. 

He shrugged, and replied, “I guess. But it wasn’t very safe. One night she came home looking pretty battered, and I decided that was one black eye too many. I love her too much for her to have kept doing that.”

“So, what’d you do?”

“I talked to the owner of that diner I was talking about. She’s a pretty understanding lady. I got her to hire my mom, and she’s been there ever since. It’s been about four years now.” 

Kyle smiled again. “That’s nice of you.”

“Yeah, whatever. I just didn’t feel like having a whore for a mom, you know?” Cartman said, pulling away a bit. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah…”

“What about you?” he said, quickly changing the subject. “Aren’t your parents like, super strict or whatever?”

Kyle hummed in agreement, pulling his crispened marshmallow away from the flames, and blowing on it. “You bet your ass they are. Especially my mom. Like I said, she’d rather see me on the constant edge of a breakdown all the the time before she’d see me fail. It’s exhausting.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Kyle, but your mom sounds like kind of a bitch,” Cartman said, with a grin. 

“Don’t call her a bitch, dude!” Kyle snapped, and knocked the other boy’s skewer with his own. Cartman’s melting marshmallow slipped from the pointy end, and plopped directly into the fire. It was rapidly engulfed by flames. 

“Ay!” he said, sounding genuinely upset. “You wasted a perfectly good marshmallow, Jew!”

Kyle immediately stood up, and hung over Cartman, his one hand curled into a fist and the other clutching his skewer. “I told you not to use that word as an insult, fatass!” 

Cartman stood up too, towering over Kyle, even though he wasn’t much taller. Just his presence was intimidating enough. They glared into each other’s eyes, their own fire between them, until Cartman smiled, reach out, and knocked Kyle’s own skewer onto the dirt. 

“There. Now we’re even,” he said smugly. 

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Hardly,” he scoffed, and then added, “and I’ll say it again, but this’ll be the last time. Don’t call me jew like that.”

Cartman groaned in defeat, and collapsed back onto the dirt. “Okay, okay, fine. I won’t, even though it’s  _ so _ amusing.”

“You’re annoying, you know that right?” Kyle teased, and collapsed next to the slightly larger boy. 

“Yeah, well. You’re the one who agreed to come on this date with me, so who’s laughing now,” Cartman grinned. 

Oh… he said it. He said date. Kyle’s face flushed. “Is this that?”

“That what?”

“ _ Is _ this that? Is this a like, you know, like a date, or whatever. Is that what we’re doing?” 

Suddenly, Cartman went silent, and became very interested in his shoe laces. The fire flickered, casting a glow around his features. He really was handsome, Kyle thought. His face was round, dimpled, and his hair looked so soft the way it swooped down over his forehead. And his eyelashes were so long…

“We should go.”

“W-what?” Kyle sputtered, sounding confused. “But we like, just got here?”

Cartman shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well. I got things to do. And you probably have to get home before your mom realizes you’re gone, or whatever.”

Suddenly, it dawned on Kyle. Was he… embarrassed? He vaguely thought back to their first conversation at the party last week. Cartman had talked about not getting along with people. Not really enjoying their company. Maybe this was actually really hard for him. He seemed so cool and unbothered all the time, but maybe this whole thing was just as scary for him as it was for Kyle. 

“Um,” Kyle said, trying to gather the right words. “I uh,  _ do _ want to be here, you know. I um, like this.” Oh wow, was the moon always this bright? Why were his hands shaking? “I like you.”

Cartman was violently avoiding eye contact, and Kyle saw, much to his surprised, the other boy’s hands were also subtly shaking. Oh god…. 

“I like you too, Kyle.” 

His heart was beating a mile a second, and he felt his vision tunneling. This was happening. This was actually, really happening. There was a boy, a  _ cute _ boy, sitting right next to him. A cute boy who was turning towards him. A  _ really _ cute boy closing his eyes, and leaning towards him, and…

_ BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.  _

A volcano of vibrations erupted in Kyle’s pants, and he jolted like a scared animal. Cartman swifty yanked his hand away, which had just moments ago, been resting on top of Kyle’s thigh. He stared silently at the ground, the tips of his ears aflame. 

Kyle’s phone was still angrily screaming in his pocket, but he was way too terrified to look at who was calling. Deep inside his gut, he already knew who it would be. Very slowly, agonizingly slowly, Kyle brought his iphone out and looked at the inevitable. One small word shown brightly on the screen, marking his fate. 

Mom. 


End file.
